Sea Kayak Trip Lake Michigan, Saugatuck

After several months of feeling sub-standard, experiencing new low ebbs of my fitness and strength, and consequently feeling very low in spirits; the wind began to blow. Unfortunately it did not howl, but spirited breezes across Lake Michigan were quite enough for me to be getting on with. After being a complete ass and forgetting about dropping off my Isabella at camp (I suck), I negotiated a penitent truce at home. Paddle time with Lori and Doug and getting Isabella off to Van Buren Youth Camp became a settled armistice between all parties.

We paddled out of the harbor and into the wind. This particular day was overcast and the wind was veering from the southwest to due west, to northwest. We made the call to head directly out. We paddled at a steady four knot clip due west for almost two and a half hours. I felt some of my old strength and fitness returning. Nothing ached for once. Lori unfortunately was taking my bad mojo. She was hurting but keeping up.

As we neared the time for turn around the wind had begun to veer completely to the northwest. The waves had been tidied up and began to form tidy swells. The blue green freshwater sea began to hiss as the cat’s paws of white caps skittered across the surface. Mist closed in around the land. My paddle blades caught the wind as we tacked towards land. I dug in for all I was worth feeling the muscles in my back and my abdomen pulse, twitch, and burn.The Foster Silhouette began to plane and surf on the small wind driven waves. I was leaning well forward trying to free the stern and allow it to catch the swells. I began to fly with my old grace again. As my kayak spilled down wave, I was edging hard and allowing the hard chines to catch and then pivot the kayak down wave again.

Doug and I have a tendency to try and ram one another while surfing, I actually parked my Silhouette over the top of his Valkyrie deck on a crossing between North and South Manitou while surfing wind waves between the islands. I tried to keep the distance healthy, but as we surfed, I had to drop a few emergency hanging draws to pull us apart.

I enjoyed feeling the powerful fluid bite of the Werner Ikelos. I found myself using a fairly high cadence for my forward stroke. I would spin hard and then sweep and edge to stay on course and then dig in with a rudder to keep the lighthouses marking the harbor on my bow. Doug and I would trade leading the surge towards land like two motorcycle riders on a starting line, goosing the throttle, he would spin dig his blades deep, spin hard, and then catch a ride. Doug’s Valkyrie would scoot ahead fifty or one hundred yards until he would have to start paddling hard again. Then I would dig and spin until I caught a ride, perhaps even getting on the back of another waves, and then smelling another ride, dig hard to climb over the top and spill down wave again.

As this sprinting continued I forgot about the hernia repair, work, and all problems, and only about the next ride. In some small way this is what being in a sea kayak on open water is about, the distance between land and sea is a thin tether that needs to be broken every once in a while. If I stay too long on land the tether seems to grow in thickness and weight until it becomes hard to bear. Nothing in life that I have done thus far has felt as beautiful or as free as flying before a tail wind 5 miles from land.

We all know surf kayaking is obviously very freeing. It is however a different feeling. Heading out to surf storms has a certain amount of sheer dread with brief moments of pure bliss. The pit of dread in your belly as you break out on a 25 knot wind day from a beach with 10 foot surf is a bit much at times. But that dread is rewarded with a carving green water bliss that you couldn’t top with a shot of heroin in the eyeball. Burt Monro said it best about his motorcycle, “I live more in five minutes on that bike than most people do in their whole lives”. This is especially true of surf kayaking. Sea kayaking wind driven waves is not as thrilling, but it has beauty and grace. It also has a different pace, it is slow enough to be able to enjoy it while you’re doing it. While surf kayaking I am so completely in the moment, I have to think back while in the car on the way home about the rides I caught, rather than while I am paddling out to get the next one. Suffice it to say, I am still in love with both mistresses.

The snow hit Kalamazoo wet and heavy yesterday. Just as Laura and I were planning to leave for Ann Arbor to see Vampire Weekend. I got stuck twice in a snow bank. As I was digging myself out of a snowbank for the second time at 10 to seven I realized we weren’t going to make the show. Laura also informed me that 94 eastbound was closed between Kalamazoo and Battle Creek. It’s hard to be a punk rocker in the snow I think.

To add the witches of MacBeth to the mix I got this as my horoscope yesterday.

Whatever events you might have been scheduled to attend might be temporarily postponed. This might leave you feeling at somewhat of a loss, because you’ve planned to be away right now and you won’t know what to do with yourself in the meantime. Be your usual ingenious self and you’ll find something! Go to it!

We went out for dinner at Cosmo’s and got Isabella home early.
For a flavor of Vampire Weekend check this video out.

To top it all off I had this wild dream that Hulk Hogan and Rambo were hunting me down to kill me. But somehow I convinced Hulk Hogan to give me his flame thrower. Dude! Hulk Hogan gave me his flame thrower! That has to mean something right!

Look out Rambo.

Some days you can’t get a break, and then you do…

I seem to be on a run of bad luck that won’t quit. I’ve finally gotten all the right gear, the right craft, and enough skill to surf big fall storm waves. But now I just can’t seem to get some good luck. I went on a Saturday afternoon, (unheard of in the realms of storm surfing) and suited up. I had a nice northerly break where I could get out easily. Off the pier were some monsters. I caught a couple of ok rides where I had to paddle hard to get on. And then I caught some scary ones where I intentionally capsized to let a monster ten foot wave break over me. I more often than not found myself accidentally righted and then surfing in anyway. I caught one absolutely beautiful ride where a good seven or eight foot wave came up, and I was finally in the right spot at the right time, so I carved down the face diagonally toward the pier, and then saw more green water to my right so I cut back away from the wall and kept surfing all the way to the beach.

When I broke back out I was out maybe 30 yards off the pier. A huge steep dumper took me by surprise. I capsized intentionally to let it go over me, but it took me and threw me from the top to the bottom, it felt like I was thrown a full ten feet in the air and I hit hard, I was knocked into the cockpit luckily but I think the tunnel on my drysuit let in some water. I was sinking hard to stern when I rolled up. I thought for sure the boat was cracked somewhere at the stern. I paddled the flooded boat all the way in, but I took the skirt off to level it out.

I got it dumped out and inspected the boat. No damage. So I looked out there and thought ok, I can’t let it beat me. So I got back in and headed out. I kept thinking about the one sweet ride. I was in exactly the right spot when another huge wave broke where it shouldn’t have been breaking. I capsized intentionally again. The turbulence was incredible. I held onto the paddle for dear life thinking, “hold on, hold on, it’ll pass.” And then my right paddle blade snapped off from my Lendal four piece. After my experience with hand rolling up to find myself presented with a no-win situation, I just got pissed and wet exited.

I swam the boat in again, and a boardie collected my wreckage of foam outfitting shook loose from the boat.

After all my experiences surfing, I’ve sort of gotten it into my head, perhaps erroneously that if I held onto my paddle and could roll up I’d be safe. To have my paddle snapped off by a wave sort of weakens my confidence in that particular piece of equipment. Lendal paddlok’s are supposed to be sort of indestructible aren’t they?

Am I out of my element chasing storms and 10 foot waves in a small kayak? Are my dreams for a perfect ride at my home break a fools errand? Is it really just beyond me and my skill to do it?

I hope not. I hope it’s just some bad mojo that will pass.

Some Days-U2
Some days are dry, some days are leaky
Some days come clean, other days are sneaky
Some days take less, but most days take more
Some slip through your fingers and onto the floor
Some days you’re quick, but most days you’re speedy
Some days you use more force than is necessary
Some days just drop in on us
Some days are better than others
Some days it all adds up
And what you got is not enough
Some days are better than others
Some days are slippy, other days sloppy
Some days you can’t stand the sight of a puppy
Your skin is white but you think you’re a brother
Some days are better than others
Some days you wake up with her complaining
Some sunny days you wish it was raining
Some days are sulky, some days have a grin
And some days have bouncers and won’t let you in
Some days you hear a voice
Taking you to another place
Some days are better than others
Some days are honest, some days are not
Some days you’re thankful for what you’ve got
Some days you wake up in the army
And some days it’s the enemy
Some days are work, most days you’re lazy
Some days you feel like a bit of a baby
Lookin’ for Jesus and His mother
Some days are better than others
Some days you feel ahead
You’re making sense of what she said
Some days are better than others
Some days you hear a voice
Taking you to another place

Surfing hydraulics are indeed the stuff of legends. Once the waves start to top out at 8 feet or so they can do some pretty impressive things. When the waves spill the forces within are quite strong. This is an understatement of Olympian proportions.

The forecast was for 8-10 foot waves with wind at 30 knots, gusting to 35 knots out of the northwest. It was every bit the forecast for once. Rain came down in cool, but painfully side ways sheets. It was so wet it was hard to tell up from down at times. The path on the south side of the pier looked like a runway. Flat with a bit of occasional white water. The rocks that are pushed up against the pier were uncovered in the troughs of waves, meaning a serious amount of water was being displaced during each wave period. I broke out with ease for once.

The wave period appeared to be about 5 seconds. People on the west coast will laugh at this, but it is what we get. I caught some decent, (quick rides) Steep waves where I was able to carve a little before riding onto the back of the next wave. I typically saw something big coming paddled like hell and tried to grab onto green water by high brace ruddering to slow myself down to hang in the power pocket. A couple times I was unceremoniously spat out of the green water by a mountain of hissing white water. But for the most part it seemed pretty benign.

After catching some fun rides I got caught at the bottom of a big wave without any hull speed. As I tried to get up to speed I was drawn to the top and then dumped to the bottom by the wave as it curled and collapsed. Funny but I remember the sensation as I was sucked up, and then dropped down in it’s distinct pieces like I was watching someone else. Then when I rolled up I was surfing backwards, “woohoo!!!!”-I thought, but another wave broke on me, and in the ensuing dynamics I was promptly sucked completely out of the kayak, skirt and all.

I took my paddle and began to swim to my swamped kayak. I got in and paddled it for a few minutes and got it close. Then I got out and swam with my paddle all the way in until I could stand.

Luckily I hadn’t been out further than the pier. Or I could have been in for a long confused swim. Also again, I had a lifejacket, helmet, and drysuit. But my skirt did not hold very well. I’ve been using a touring deck that is neoprene from mountain surf. It’s pretty decent, but not as good as a pure white water skirt obviously. Although I’m not sure any skirt would have held me in.
It was an interesting experience that maybe I can ward off next time with a tougher rand on the skirt. But I’m not sure I’m ready for the seat belt! In my three years of small boat, or surf boat surfing this is the first time it’s happened. And it never happened while sea kayaking other than when I had a crappy nylon skirt when I first started out.

But float bags are on the list too. I’ve delayed on common sense for too long on those.

I made the after work foray to South Haven south beach yesterday. The wind was up again, 20-25 knots out of the northwest, gusting to 30 knots. I had the beginnings of a cold, now in full bloom. When I arrived at the beach the tops of the waves were being blown off into furious spray against the silhouette of an angry orange setting sun. A guy in a pickup truck got out before I was on the water. He looked at me and then at Lake Michigan, and then says, “Are you really going out there?” “Yes sir I am.” “Oh good entertainment!” he says and gets back in his truck.

With that in mind, I suited up in my short sleeve drytop and hit the water. I found a rip near the pier that looked like it was a way out. I paddled a bit and then tried to break through a steep four foot clapotis wave that had a pyramid shaped peak. A pit of dread rose in my stomach. I remembered this feeling well from last year where I couldn’t even get the surf boat to the outside of the soup. When it broke, I knew I wasn’t going to make it over. I was thrown nose over tail and then surfed upside down back towards the beach. The water was much colder than just last week. I rolled up right away and was surfing back towards the beach. I beached and then changed into a long sleeve paddle jacket and fleece.

I went back out again. This time I was much more patient when I tried to break out through the soup. I waited through larger sets, paddled through the calms in the rip and then timed my break out through the back of foam piles until I was on the outside. Once on the outside, I caught beautiful glassy rides on spilling 8-10 foot waves. I carved easily in the maverick back and forth, continually finding green water and riding all the way to shore. A mountain of hissing foam falling from the top of the wave chased me all the way down the face of each wave. The fins on the Maverick hummed when I accelerated to top speed, like the rigging of a sailing ship as it comes into the eye of the wind.

I find it interesting that after all this time in storms on Lake Michigan that the soup on the inside is still enough to intimidate me and keep my instincts honed. The water is much more textured than the rivers that I’ve paddled. It was certainly more challenging than the: easy no wind flat water paddle out to the reef in San Diego with Jeff Laxier. (The waves were much nicer of course in San Diego too) Of course the open Pacific with an on shore wind would be far more intimidating.

I somehow manage to overcome that feeling of fear and get on the water to surf. Each time I do overcome that fear, I usually have one or two unbelievable rides on huge waves. Pretty soon I forget how terrifying that paddle out was. I conveniently forget how much of a struggle it was to paddle a small boat into the wind, and I only remember the joy of carving down a steep glassy face with a tumbling mountain of foam chasing me like Bukowski’s “days that run away like horses over the hills.”

Jason Roon and I headed out to South Haven with the wind roaring in the treetops like an angry lion wanted them to fall over.

We arrived on South Haven north beach to see that the wind had died out almost entirely from the south west. We drove back to the south beach side and found some nice, chest high spillers. Slow peaky waves with a nice frequency. Jason took some nice photos for me, excusing the speedo shot.

I had the Maverick out with increased outfitting. The backband is still not right. Will give it another go tomorrow probably with a new backband.

Check out my End of Summer Gallery at Picasa.

On a usability note, the gallery software is excellent for those with a PC. If you are looking for a good free way to share photos, give it a whirl.

Funny how things move in cycles.

When the wind started to howl, I woke to check the weather report and the surf cam. Making promises of future familial devotion and activity to Laura, I peeled out of the driveway towards South Haven.
How am I still married, is anyone’s guess.

For once I was rewarded for all of the risk.

Steep glassy six to seven foot waves greeted me on the outside. The wind was gusting, but manageable once out. I felt a strange sense of uneasiness as I was taking my first set of rides. Not sure why. I managed to settle down. I started to get my diagonal takeoff dialed in. I got three or four beautiful rides. I also quickly got a sense of which waves were going to dump and close out.

I tried to get a picture of a curling wave with my paddle underneath my arm. I was rewarded with a shot, but succinctly nuked by a good size wave. I managed to roll up with my paddle and retrieved my camera from it’s dummy cord.

I caught a series of good rides on the north side of the pier. I began to feel the need to get home to fulfill familial obligations, I returned on time.

Now as always, I am waiting for the storms of spring to bring some waves my way. The waiting is killing me. Watching the lake cam when it’s calm is like watching a television tuned to a dead channel.
After a while you think you start to see a pattern where there is none.

I saw the wind was dropping off. After my beating earlier in the week, my pride was fanny smacked, and wanted another shot at the title. So I saddled back up to head out. I unloaded at South Haven south beach again. The wind was further out of the northwest this time. The waves were peaking at about 7-8 feet on the big ones, the average was more in the five foot range. I stowed my gloves, (no pogies yet). I broke all the way out to past the pier with relative ease. 15-20 knot winds being well within my realm of strength. I turned and started watching for a wave to catch. I was immediately taken over by a big dumper that I hadn’t been looking for. I got my paddle to the surface and swept, felt my back clear the afterdeck of the boogie and I popped right up. But I had that pit of dread in my stomach that hadn’t been there before. It took a few more clean rides down large spillers to start to feel like myself again. By the end I seemed looser and ready to roll.

Confidence is definitely a two edged weapon that cuts evenly against either party. I think confidence is essential in order to surf at all. If you don’t believe you can roll in 8-10 foot surf you will swim every time. If you believe you can do it, you will more than likely come up every time until you are so exhausted you either go in, or you have a swim. Unfortunately you may have a day where your confidence for lack of a better term hands your arse to you.

I think having one of those days within some realm of safety is a good thing. For my part I see way too many complaisant paddlers who do not push themselves at all. The reverse of that particular medal may be that they live long, safe, but not particularly interesting lives. I always remind myself when I beat myself up about missing a roll, that I was out that day, no one else would go; and mainly because no one else wants to challenge themselves. For whatever modicum of daring and skill I possess, it is from continually trying to take on larger and larger challenges. I may have found that balance where I can now say that I know what the outerlimit is. 14-17 foot waves and 35 knot winds on Lake Michigan is pretty out there, and I feel no shame in having said I met my match. To those that would laiugh at my sudden turn in fortune, I say he who dares wins.

I cycled in to work yesterday through driving snow and building wind. My bike pushed me about 2 feet side ways with one solid gust on a downhil portion of the ride to downtown Kalamazoo. The forecast predicted a wersterly 30 knot gale force wind that would die over the course of the day into evening. After work I drove to the beach with the sea kayak and the surf boat on the Volvo. The sea kayak kept trying to take flight off the car from the gusts heading straight under the nose.

I arrived on the beach with the sand blasting the side of the car. I put on my drysuit with my new neck gasket, many thanks to: Amigo Drysuit Repair . I attached my fins to the boogie with numb fingers. Walking down into the wind was a challenge to get to the water, I felt my body fighting the urge to leave the ground like a kite.

I found a spot on the beach to launch and managed to get the skirt on with little trouble even while wearing gloves. More on gloves later.

I paddled like mad to reach the outer break as the sun was setting fast. Every muscle ached as I dug like mad to break out. The wind had not died below 30 knots. I braced a few times and felt the paddle go squidgy in my grip, just like it did last year when I tried surfing in the dark on the day of the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. I didn’t like that feeling at all, as this meant I would have to trust that my indexing on the paddle was correct if I had to roll. I managed to get out past two or three sets, but was catapulted nose over tail by the fourth. I swept the paddle out calmly and tried to roll. The paddle sliced and I came up three-quarters and went back into the icy water. A wave caught me while I was upside down, so I waited until I felt calm at the surface. Once there was calm I tried again. The blade sliced again and I did not come up, I did manage to get a breath. I set up for a third time with the hail mary, the extended pawlata grip, a wave caught and pushed me again, and I lost my grip on the paddle. However I managed to get another breath. I thought, you know what, I bet I could handroll this thing up. I swept my body out to the surface, and pulled out that “angry thoughts hipsnap” ala Alex Pak, and I slapped like a beaver with both hands. I came up on my first try. Unfortunately, my paddle was loose in the water. Another set came in and nuked me over hard. Life was suddenly a lot more complicated. I set up again, and tried to roll up, no luck. I realized that this was going to be my first swim in 3 years.
No one could say I didn’t try everything I could think of, or that I was weak, I just had a FUBAR situation. I sighed, (sort of anyway while underwater). I yanked the skirt and was out. A drysuit and a lifejacket are both excellent things I realized. I found my paddle pretty quickly and started trying to swim for shore. A steady current of rip tide was heading in my exact direction straight out from shore. It felt like it was at least 4 knots, but I was no judge at the time. My boat was 30-40 yards ahead of me and still floating. This was my first wet exit out of the boogie so I was impressed that it was still floating, did I mention that I had no float bags in it?... I swam side ways and found a wave to push me in. I caught up to my boat and dragged it up to shore.

Three take-aways.

1. 30 Knots of wind is always stronger than me.
2. Gloves will screw up my indexing on my surf paddle.

1. Being able to handroll up my surfboat in conditions is sexy, but useless.

   I looked out, it was dark, I was alone, and I had swum. Hmmm, that handroll was a lot of use wasn’t it? I smell a Darwin award coming.